


Love in the time of Influenza: 6th Pass drabbles

by astrokath



Series: Kath's drabbles100 collections [2]
Category: Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-22
Updated: 2014-03-22
Packaged: 2018-01-16 14:46:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1351363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrokath/pseuds/astrokath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>5 drabbles set during and after the plague of the 6th Pass - a subset of my Weyr Life drabbles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love in the time of Influenza: 6th Pass drabbles

Disease

As the dragons' keen echoed across the Weyr for the fifth time since sunset, Sh'gall flinched. For the fifth time.  
  
 _Kadith, how fares the Weyr?_  
  
 _Three of every five riders have sickened. Holth and Leri are keeping the healers informed_  
  
 _And... Orlith? Moreta?_  
  
 _Orlith wishes no distractions. They are together, fighting this... disease._  
  
Sh'gall resumed his pacing back and forth along the length of Kadith's weyr, trying to clear his head, stifle his paranoia. He wasn't ill, _couldn't_ be ill, _mustn't_ be ill.  
  
 _Sh'gall?_  
  
"I'm fine!"  
  
He reached out to Kadith with hand and mind, and... somehow, missed.  
  
 _Sh'gall? Sh'gall!_

 

Healing

"You need my _blood_?"  
  
Sh'gall grimaced, and glared at Jallora. "You do realise I have a Weyr to run, yes? Why, if I hadn't been ill too, it wouldn't _be_ in this mess!"  
  
The healer offered a reassuring smile. "Your blood serum will help heal countless others of the plague. It won't take long."  
  
He snorted, and rolled up his sleeve. "Well, get on with it then, woman." Sh'gall watched her carefully probe for a vein, and ignored the brief pain as the needlethorn slid through skin. Bright red, the blood began to flow.  
  
Sh'gall felt suddenly weak.  
  
And fainted.

 

Sixth Sense

The bond with your dragon was like a sixth sense.  
  
Regardless of distance, the connection between Leri and Holth was as effortless as ever, even with the confusion of multiple jumps _between_ times. Leri instinctively knew where Holth was, how exhausted she felt. She kept her mind still; no need to disturb Holth's concentration with irrelevant ripples of thought! Quietly together, far apart, their enduring bond remained true and strong.  
  
How could she _not_ know the very moment her world ended, when her own life sheered free of Holth's?  
  
Orlith shared her pain, but that was no comfort at all.

 

Not Enough

"Tithe train's here!"  
  
Dropping her mending, Gorta lifted her skirts and ran into the bowl before the messenger could take a second breath.  
  
She'd an idea of how bad this would be, but this....   There were too few wagons.  Not enough food.  Even the gasping dray-beasts were too scrawny to feed a weyrling green, and those they had in plenty.  What would she tell Nesso? What would the Weyr do?  
  
She dabbed at her tears with her sleeve, oblivious of B'lerion's presence beside her until he sighed, and spoke.  
  
"Time will have to tell.  We'll cope, Gorta, don't you worry."

 

Life

"One is always more sorry for the things one didn't do, than the things one has done."  
  
He'd spoken out of the blue, but somehow, she understood why. "You weren't just here to see Hannath and I? Or to tell me Nerilka's news? What is it, Alessan?"  
  
"It's today. The _ging_ trees will be flowering on Ista... and..."  
  
"And Moreta will be there," she finished, dry-mouthed.  
  
He nodded, eyes tightly closed. "I wanted... if I could go back... but she was right. I'm alive again, happy, even. And I feel so guilty... for living, and for ever wanting not to."


End file.
